Many Happy Returns
by IronicSnap
Summary: It's September 23rd. Sly, fresh from his fight with Clockwerk, has someone he needs to meet. [Celebrating SC's 15th anniversary!]


It was quiet here. It always was.

The air was crisp. Cold. Summer had begun to fade but winter had yet to arrive, leaving the world caught between extremes. Bright blue skies and dying orange trees.

Leaves littered the grass, crisp and brittle, but he moved through them silently. At this point, it wasn't even conscious. Effortless skill. It was just in his blood.

He stayed off the neat gravel paths. Not his style. Instead he took a direct, diagonal route to their little lot at the back. There was no point going the long way. But he was polite about it. He took care not to step on any of the graves.

Legendary thief Sly Cooper trudged onward. The weather was mostly nice, but the wind had some bite to it. He was glad he had thrown on a thick, black coat before leaving the hideout. His hands were in his pockets, arms by his sides. Eyes level.

Soon, he arrived. The wind picked up as he closed the distance, but quickly abated. He took a moment to just stand there and take in the two gravestones.

 **CONNER COOPER – FATHER**

 **BEATRICE "TRIXIE" COOPER – MOTHER**

He smiled. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad."

Part of him found their incredibly brief epitaphs amusing. Settling down had required them to quietly jettison any information on their former lives. There wasn't much else for the funeral home to actually go on.

They were his parents. That was it.

He shifted his weight, deciding where to start. "Well, first thing's first. I'm doing good. Great, actually! Just came from Russia. We're gonna head back to Paris pretty soon." A smirk. "Yes, Dad, we're still living out of a train car, and yes, we still like it. We'll probably upscale soon, though... Find a new place, one that _doesn't_ have wheels. But, yeah. Before heading home, the three of us agreed it might be nice to spend a day or two here. The old stomping grounds. Give me a chance to catch up with you."

He trailed off. He wasn't in the habit of talking so long uninterrupted. His friends, his pursuer – even, to their slim credit, most of his enemies – were all pretty chatty. Sly was used to verbal tennis, a constant back and forth. Synergy. Monologues weren't his thing.

But silence was worse.

"Speaking of Russia... I have a status report. On the whole... avenging you thing." He took a deep breath. "I did it. It's over. I stopped them, every single member of the Fiendish Five. Including..."

For a moment, Sly's eyes unfocused. He stared into empty air.

"...I don't even know where to begin with Clockwerk. I... He's a monster. I mean, yeah, that's obvious from a moral perspective. Of course he's a monster after what he did to you. But I didn't realize that he was a _monster_. Part of me always wondered why you guys weren't able to... I dunno. Stop him. But now I know. Nobody could."

Sly found himself breaking into a smile. He folded his arms, ears high.

"Well, nobody except me, apparently. I don't mean to upstage you, but... I did it. I actually did it! Well, no. _We_ did it. Me and Bentley and Murray - Carmelita, too! It was incredible! Working together, we broke into his lair, past all these deathtraps – Murray busted out some sweet maneouvres with the van – and he had captured Carmelita and I tried to rescue her, and the room started filling with gas, but Bentley came through! He took control of the computer systems – you'd have loved it, Dad, really impressive hacking – and then me and Carmelita scaled the volcano and we were fighting together and she lent me a jet-pack! A _jet-pack_ , it was _amazing_ , and Clockwerk came to fight us personally after we trashed his hokey Death Ray. And he was immune to the jet-pack's cannons and basically immune to Carmelita's shock pistol, but the shock pistol _followed_ by the cannons did some damage, and..."

Sly had to pause for breath. He took the opportunity to realign himself, reassert his usual sauve demeanour. But the boyish excitement didn't leave his eyes.

"Sorry for rambling. You can tell I'm still kinda riding high off the whole thing. I mean, as far as memorable evenings go, that one's gonna be hard to top. You can forgive me if I'm still sorta running victory laps over here."

He settled back, hands back in his pockets and eyes skyward.

"And the best part is... he's gone. I actually stopped him, once and for all. This curse on our family has finally been lifted, and Clockwerk will never darken the door of a Cooper again. Ever."

He paused. His eyes narrowed.

"...I think."

He rubbed his chin, scratching his grey fur.

"Now that I think about it... okay, he was definitely dead. Or offline, or, whatever. I think if he had the capacity to recover, he would've done it by now. But he also seemed oddly intact? Like, the pieces were just bobbing in the lava. The _lava_. I'm no scientist, but that doesn't seem right. Maybe he would be able to..."

The wind picked up again, a gust causing some leaves to slide awkwardly along the grass.

Sly nodded. "You're absolutely right, Mom. As usual. We'll keep an eye on it in case anything changes. It's like you always used to tell me: 'If something's worth shooting, it's worth shooting twice'." A little smile. "Weird advice for a kid, I guess, but lately I've been seeing the truth to it."

He chuckled.

"I wonder if Carmelita's folks ever told her the same thing. She sure acts like it." His eyes lit up. "You guys remember Carmelita, don't you? I told you about her last time I was here. She's doing well. More than that, really. She's amazing, as ever. One of the most fascinating people I've ever crossed paths with. It was so, _so_ cool getting to team up with her. Fighting side by side, knowing she had my back... Wow. I just wish it could've lasted longer." He coughed. "You know how it is. I had to... leave. Quickly. Buy myself a bit of time."

The graves were silent.

Sly smiled sheepishly, scratching his face. "Well, since you ask... I, uh, left her handcuffed to a volcano. She's fine! Back to civilisation, chasing my tail again. But I did feel pretty bad about it. Heh."

The silence lingered. Slowly, Sly's smile died. He sighed, eyes low.

"Am I crazy? I really feel a spark between us. I know I'm head over heels for her, and I feel like – despite everything I put her through – she's genuinely fond of me too. I don't think that's just wishful thinking on my part." He shifted, looking to the side. "But... she's a cop. And a damn good one, too! It's not like I could just pay her to switch sides or something. She's so... righteous. Really believes in herself, her convictions. That's why I love her. I don't _want_ her to change."

He shook his head.

"Sorry. Maybe I'm not making sense. It's just... it'd be real nice to get some advice from you about relationships. Especially from you, Mom. I remember you joking about Dad's flirtatious streak, and I suppose it's something the two of us share."

He shrugged at the ground.

"There's no major rush, I guess. I'm young. I'm gonna enjoy the next few years, see what's out there. Meet people. But I think I'd like to settle down eventually. Maybe even with Carmelita, if we could, y'know, make it work. I want what you guys had. Something... something really steady. A house and kids and a lot of laughter. And I don't know how you..."

He lapsed into silence. For a moment, everything hung still in the graveyard. The air was heavy, thick with memories.

Then, as though nothing had happened, Sly's place was plastered back into place.

"Until then, though, I have plenty to keep busy with. Thanks to this."

Carefully, moving with quiet reverence, Sly reached into his coat and produced an old brown book. Battered and bruised – not just with age – but thick and solid and defiant of time. The gold on the cover gleamed in the sun.

"It's here." Sly had lowered his voice without really noticing. "All of it. I gathered up every stolen page, and we tried to restore it as much as we could." A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "I mean, it's an old book. It was kinda due some TLC anyway. I'm just glad we could salvage it..."

Idly, he opened it and began to gently skim through the pages. The paper rustled lightly in the wind, oddly sturdy for its age.

"It's amazing, Dad." Sly's voice was a murmur. "I mean, I had already learned so much from the fragments I'd grabbed, but having the whole thing in my hands again... I can't describe it."

He let the book sit open on a page near the back. Tennessee Kid Cooper smiled up at him from a faded photograph. His grin shone brightly through the sepia tones.

"Having it back fills me with this feeling of... I dunno. Maybe the closest word is 'hope'? I earned this. I got the _chance_ to earn it. And now me and the guys can do whatever we want. The whole world's ahead of us. All we have to do is decide what's next."

He paused for a moment, letting out a breath. He looked up, admiring the sky. The height of autumn, but not a cloud in sight.

"I... I know you're already proud of me." His smile strengthened. "But why stop here, right? I'm only getting warmed up. There's a lot of stuff I want to do, and I'm gonna give all of it my best shot. I owe that to you. Just you wait. I'm gonna claim my spot in Cooper history. And maybe even make the world a better place while I'm doing it. If, y'know, it's not too much of a detour."

He chuckled quietly as he closed the book, slipping it back into his coat.

"Good point, Mom. Aiming to do both at once is efficient, if nothing else."

He settled his hands back into his pockets. For a few minutes, he said nothing. The silence surrounded him; but that was okay. It was comfortable. _He_ was comfortable. He didn't need to fill the air with words.

The breeze rustled the trees, knocking loose a few dead leaves. The sun shone placidly as it ambled toward the horizon. And Sly stood still and enjoyed his parents' company.

He closed his eyes, his breathing slow. For a moment – for once – he looked truly tired. But then he smiled. When he opened his eyes, his constant spark of humour had returned. If anything, it was stronger than when he arrived.

"Well, I better get moving! I have a party to get to... and pretend to be surprised by. The guys almost hid it from me this year. _Almost_. Bentley's planning is as flawless as ever, but Murray was just too enthusiastic about the cake to keep his voice down. Three types of chocolate, I gather."

He sighed, his eyes warm.

"They're the best. Both of them. I just know you'd all get along really well. They've both taken real good care of me. No matter what happens, they have my back. Honestly, I consider myself really lucky to have them."

He tilted his head, smile widening.

"I mean... that's what it's all about, right?"

He trailed off again, content to leave things there. After a few moments, the wind picked up once more, pushing at his coat.

Sly stretched, working out a minor kink in his neck. "Well... I guess that's it. This was a good talk. Glad I could make it. Dunno if I'll be back sooner, but I'll definitely see you two this time next year! I'll have a lot of new stuff to tell you about. That's a promise."

He looked over the graves a final time. His smile was bright. Unstoppable.

"Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. I love you both."

And with that, with everything said, he left. He turned around and made his way back toward the entrance, hands in his pockets and feet silent.

Sly Cooper was, despite everything, a family man. It felt it was important to keep your loved ones involved in your life.

The least you could do was visit your parents on your birthday.

* * *

 _ **Celebrating fifteen years of my all-time favourite series, and looking forward to what the next fifteen will bring.**_


End file.
